The Wayfaring Stranger
by Evelino11
Summary: What if someone unexpected had crossed Django's and Schultz's path. Rated T for now, but the rating may change in the future.
1. First impressions

**A.N: I decided to write this story, because there isn't nearly enough Django Unchained fanfiction. (Definitely not enough with Schultz too.) This is purely written for the fun of it.**

* * *

Chapter 1: First impressions

One lonesome cowboy rode without a care in the world on her grey and white coloured pinto. All the while whistling a merry tune, with only the trees and bushes of the woods as her audience. Her guitar, her most precious item, was strapped on her back.

Once she arrived in a small town called Daughtrey, a gunshot rang out through the silence. Followed by a second shot and the screams of the townsfolks.

She dismounted her horse in one fluent motion and saw everyone running in her direction. They scurried past her, not taking notice of the outsider. She stopped a young woman, who was supporting herself with a crutch.

"What happened?" She asked the young woman in a stern, low voice. Her mouth covered by a green scarf. The girl looked petrified and in a state of shock.

The cowboy snapped her fingers in front of the woman and repeated her question, yet this time there was a more urgent tone to it. Finally, The young woman seemed to take in the cowboy for the first time. Pure horror was written all over her face. "They shot the sheriff! They shot him and now he's dead!"

The cowboy released her and the girl hurried away as fast as she possibly could, without any hesitation. A sigh escaped the cowboy. _Please, don't let it be Peck._ She thought. A lot of men, plus some women, gathered in front of the saloon, and on top of the roof opposite the saloon, with their guns in hand. She decided to make her way in a building diagonally opposite the saloon. She looked out of the window and saw a man fully clothed in black arrive at the crime scene. It wasn't long after his arrival that two men dragged the corpse away from the street. She couldn't identify the corpse, but she also didn't know what Willard Peck looked like.

She opened the window slightly, so she would be able to hear everything.

All of a sudden, a merry piano tune came out of the saloon. Everyone in front of the building looked bewildered when they heard the music.

The man in black, she presumed he was the marshal, was the first one to speak. "What kind of sick bastard first kills someone and then plays the piano?" The marshal then raised his voice. "You in the saloon!" The piano stopped playing.

 _Pity, he played pretty good._ The stranger thought to herself.

The marshal continued his speech. "We've got a hundred riffles aimed at every way out of that building. You've got one chance to get out of there alive. You and your nigger, come out with your hands over your head and I mean right now!"

A new voice came from out of the saloon. "First things first. Is this the marshal I have the pleasure of addressing?"

She listened from behind the window and raised her eyebrows at this. "That's one strange fellow." She mused quietly.

"This is U.S. marshal Gill Tatum." The marshal answered, confirming her hypothesis.

"Wunderbar!" The voice exclaimed pleased.

She was a little shocked by this. First of all, he seemed to be from Germany. Second of all, he sounded happy to be in the presence of the marshal, a man of the law. And this, after he seemingly killed a man. _A strange fellow, indeed._ She thought.

The German continued to speak to the marshal. "I have relieved myself of all weapons and just as you have instructed, I am ready to step outside with my hands raised above my head. I trust as a representative of the criminal justice system of the United States of America, I shan't be shot down in the street, by either you or your deputies, before I've had my day in court."

The marshal responded. "You mean like our sheriff? Shot him down like a dog in the street."

 _Touché._

The German didn't seem to take the comment personal, like it was intended to be. "Yes, that's exactly what I mean! Do I have your word as a lawman, that I will not be shot down like a dog in the street?"

"Well, as much as we'd all enjoy seeing something like that, ain't nobody gonna cheat the hangman in my town!" The marshal replied sincerely.

 _So his choice is death now or death later?_ She pondered.

"Fair enough marshal, here we come." The German agreed. Soon after, she saw a white man and a black man walking out of the saloon, with their hands raised above their head. Just as they had been instructed to do. She noticed that the white man, held a paper in his right hand.

"You unarmed?" The marshal asked them. The white man confirmed that they were indeed unarmed. He then started his speech with obvious confidence. "Marshall Tatum, may I address you, your deputies, and apparently the entire town of Daughtrey, as to the incident that just occurred?"

She smiled at his choice of words. The marshal didn't, but affirmed that he could continue to say whatever he had to say.

"My name is Doctor King Schultz. Like yourself marshal, I am a servant of the court. The man lying dead in the dirt, who the good people of Daughtrey saw fit to elect as their sheriff, who went by the name of Bill Sharp, is actually a wanted outlaw by the name of Willard Peck, with a price on his head of two hundred dollars. That's two hundred dollars, dead or alive."

When she heard that it was indeed Peck who had gotten killed, she grunted in annoyance. "Dammit!"

The marshal obviously couldn't believe what Schultz had just told him. "The hell you say?"

"I'm aware this is probably disconcerting news. But I'm willing to wager that this man was elected sheriff sometime in the last two years?" Schultz answered with a smug look on his face.

The marshal nodded dumbfounded. The stranger would have laughed after seeing the look on the marshal's face, if she wasn't so irritated.

"I know this, because three years ago, he was rustling cattle from The B.C. Corrigan Cattle Company of Lubbock Texas." Schultz then pointed at the paper in his hand. "Now this, is a warrant. Made out by circuit court Judge Henry Allen Laudermilk of Austin Texas. You are encouraged to wire him. He will back up who I am, and who your dear departed sheriff was."

The townsfolks looked at each other and Schultz brought his arms down with a smile on his face.

"In other words marshal, you owe me two hundred dollars." Schultz finished smugly. His companion also dropped his arms and looked at the German as if he couldn't believe what had just occurred. Just like the marshal and every citizen of Daughtrey couldn't believe it.

The stranger crossed her arms and stared at the doctor from where she stood. "I think you and I need to have a little talk."


	2. Guten abend

Chapter 2: Guten Abend

Django and King left soon after the marshal payed King his two hundred dollars. Though, they didn't know that they were being followed. She made sure she stayed out of their sight.

It was late in the afternoon when both men finally stopped near a rock formation. Django dismounted his horse and Schultz freed his horse from the wagon. The latter gave his horse an affectionate pat on the neck.

She waited for a while, before she dismounted her horse as well one hundred feet away from their campsite, and stealthily sent towards them. She peered from behind a rock as to what they were doing and saw Django eating his supper and Schultz putting on his clothes. She instantly turned around to give the man some sort of privacy. Her face had transformed into a tomato in only a matter of second after seeing Schultz in his state of undress.

The two men started to talk. Django told the doctor about his wife and how he wanted find her and buy her freedom once he and Schultz had dealt with the Brittles. She waited behind her rock until Django finished his story, because she herself was interested in what he had to say as well. And she had been dead silent the entire conversation, but fate decided otherwise. She had moved only the slightest bit, to be more comfortable in the squatting position, when a branch snapped beneath her foot.

As she mumbled some curses and prayed, to whoever was listening, that her little mishap went unnoticed.

It didn't.

A click came from behind her and she froze in her tracks. "Guten abend. Would you be so kind as to turn around with your hands raised above your head? Oh, and if you were wondering. My gun is pointing at the back of your head." King Schultz calm voice came from above her.

She did as she was told, while also standing up right so she could look at him at eye level. Now that she could see him this close, she noticed that he had a well-groomed full beard. As he leaned in closer to take her gun, a whiff of his eau de cologne entered her nostrils. _Wow, you've got a cool beard and you smell nice. What kind of bounty hunter are you?_ She wondered

Her mouth was still covered by her scarf and her hair was tucked beneath her hat, so Schultz had no idea that it was a Fräulein who stood in front of him. He did raise an eyebrow for a second, when he noticed the guitar on her back.

He motioned for her to go ahead to the campfire. "After you." Django looked confused at the intruder. "Who's that?" He asked Schultz. "And what's that on his back?"

The three of them stood in front of the fire. Schultz was still aiming his gun at their intruder, and he didn't take his eyes of her as he answered Django's question. "That, Django, is a guitar. An instrument that produces sound as a result of the vibrations that are being produced when you pull the strings. Those vibrations go in the resonance-box, to strengthen the sound." Schultz answers.

Django gave him a confused look.

"It makes music." Schultz clarifies. "As to our guest, I would like to know that as well."

She glanced at the both of them, hands still raised above her head, and decided that two could play this game. "Who wants to know? Your wagon says dentist, but your gun says killer." She asked him in a well done, fake southern male voice. Mocking the little gun in his hand, as she pronounced killer. "You know what they say about the size of a man's gun and his manhood?" Django obviously did. He, unsuccessfully, tried to mask his laugh into a cough.

Schultz squinted his eyes at her mockery. "My name is Doctor King Schultz. My friend over there is Django." He began as he pulled the hammer of his revolver back. "Now please, tell us who you are and lower your scarf." He was dead serious.

She sighed and lowered her scarf, as well as her hat, without any hesitation. _Fun's over_.

Both Django and Schultz were more or less shocked by the discovery that followed. Schultz looked at her in curiosity after recovering from the initial shock, and Django looked quite confused at the turn of events.

She started to feel a little bit annoyed when they just kept staring at her, so she decided to end the uncomfortable silence.

"Hi." She said in her normal, yet foreign, accent to both men as a small smile graced her lips. _Wow, you sure know how the break the ice, don't you?_ She thought to herself.

Schultz lowered his gun, but still firmly held it in his hand, and she took this as a sign to slowly lower her hands. "Well, my name is Nera." She turned to Django and shook his hand. A gesture that stunned Django, a man who had never seen any kindness of a white person towards him. All of that had changed in less than twenty-four hours.

Nera walked towards Schultz to shake his hand. He carefully placed the revolver in the holster and took her hand. Her thin fingers seemingly lost in his strong but warm grip. She looked into his piercing blue eyes that had a brown ring around the pupil. He looked into her stormy grey eyes with great intensity.

They held their staring competition, trying to find anything into the windows of the soul, until Django scraped his throat. The spell was broken and she took her hand out of his.

Schultz also scraped his throat and addressed Nera. "Would you mind telling us who you really are and why you were spying on us?"

She involuntarily thought back at the moment he dressed himself when he enunciated 'spying'. Her cheeks reddened slightly at the memory. "I didn't… Alright, in theory, I did spy on you." She admitted. "But that wasn't my intention!" She defended herself.

"Please." Schultz sat down on a nearby rock and motioned with a hand gesture to do the same. "Indulge us."

She sat down and clasped her hands together, to warm up near the fire. When she spoke again, her eyes were aimed to the flames of the fire. "Well, you kind of stole my bounty."

Schultz looked confused at her statement and tried to explain himself. "I did what? My dear, I don't know if you know this, but I had a warrant from Judge Henry Allen Laudermilk…"

"Of Austin Texas. Yeah yeah, I know the buffoon as well." She finished his sentence. All the while drawing figures in the sand with a stick. "Look, you may not know this out of experience, but being a female bounty hunter isn't really the most grateful job. They don't want to hire you because you don't have a penis or they give you the shitty jobs that don't even pay enough to buy a boot."

Schultz and Django were stunned by her language. They had never heard a lady curse, let alone like that.

"Look." She said, observing the both of them. "I'm not going to beat around the bushes, I really needed that money for reasons you don't have to know."

Schultz absentmindedly stroked his beard and looked her dead in the eye. "Well, if that's all it takes." He answered calmly as he reached for his wallet.

"No!" She exclaimed in distress. "I don't want your money."

"I'm sorry, but you've lost me." Schultz answered, trying to understand her unclear motives.

"I don't want you to give me your money." She explained. "I want to have earned the money that gets into my hands."

Schultz was confused, yet fascinated at the same time, by this strange woman. "What do you suggest?"

"I heard about your next bounty, when I wasn't really spying, and I want to join you."

"And why would I agree to that, my dear?"

She slightly squinted her eyes at the pet name. "Because, I will follow you whether you like it or not."

King took in what she said. He could understand why she wouldn't accept the money, how she only wanted to have earned her money. But that wasn't very common among a lot of men or women.

"Why?"

"Because maybe then, I can finally break through. I can finally be a respected bounty hunter and not just a stupid girl who tries to be one of the big guys." That was the truth, but not the complete truth.

As Schultz pondered about her proposition for a while, Nera became nervous and started to chew on her lips.

"Deal!" The German exclaimed after a long silence, and he held out his hand.

Her surprised expression quickly changed into a smile that could melt steel as she shook his hand in excitement. "Deal! Now who's our bounty exactly?"

Schultz explained who they were looking for and what Django's role was in the whole ordeal. Schultz tried to get Nera to talk a little bit more about herself, and her motives to become a bounty hunter.

But it was clear that she didn't wanted to talk about herself very much. Django then asked her to play the guitar, and even though Schultz didn't say it, he wanted to hear her play as well. The look on her face made it obvious that she felt anxious to play the guitar in front of them. And therefore, she declined the offer. But as soon as she saw the disappointment on Django's face, she felt bad for saying no and denying him one of life's small delights, after all he must have been through.

"What if I play over there?" She pointed at a spot, roughly twenty meters in front of them in the dark. "I just find it difficult to play in front of people I don't know." She admitted unsure.

The two men nodded. She went to the spot and started to play Moonlight Sonata by Ludwig Von Beethoven. The doctor listened in awe, even though his face was void of any emotions. He hadn't heard Beethoven being played by someone else in five years. He watched how she stared into the darkness as she struck the strings with her skilled fingers _._

 _A German bounty hunter, a female guitar playing bounty hunter and a former slave. We make quite the trio._ Schultz couldn't help but think to himself.


	3. We came in with a bang

Chapter 3: We came in with a bang

The next day, the three of them went to the big city, Chattanooga in Tennessee. They stopped at a store that sold servant uniforms at the back. Schultz explained to Django how they would all play a part, once they would have arrived at the Bennet plantation. Schultz would be the wealthy business man, Django would be his valet and Nera,well he hadn't quite figured that out.

Django was trying on some hats and taking a look around the store as Schultz explained his masterplan. Nera was waiting outside, taking care of the horses.

"And your character is that of the valet." Schultz answered.

"What's that?" Django inquired.

Schultz thought about it for a second. "That's a fancy word for servant."

"Valet? Hmm."

"And now Django, you may choose your costume."

"You're going to let me choose my own clothes?"

"But of course." Schultz replied as if it was the most normal thing in the world, yet it was completely new to Django.

The two of them came out of the shop as Nera was having a staring competition with her horse, Toek. She heard the two men approach her and turned her head to look at them. As soon as she saw Django, her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock. Shultz was able to hide his amusement, when he noticed her reaction. Apart from the small, secret smile that graced his face, there was hardly any emotion visible on his face.

She eventually got her facial expression in control. "That's a… an unique outfit." She managed to say. She raised an eyebrow in confusion at Schultz.

The doctor repeated the plan in short. "Which leaves us with one final problem, your character. So, if you have any suggestions, feel free to share them with us."

Nera was stroking Toek's neck, while thinking about who she could become in his play. "I could go as your young daughter?" Nera proposed. "I mean, it might raise some suspicions if I went as your wife, since you're there to buy a girl in the eyes of the plantation owner."

"How old are you really?" Django asked

"Twenty-five."

"And how are you going to make yourself look around ten years younger?" Schultz asked.

The look of determination in her eyes didn't went unnoticed by the two men. "Watch me."

"This is one of those time I'm grateful that Mother Nature gave me small breasts and a height of 165 centimetres." Nera exclaimed as she fidgeted in the pink dress she had chosen. It had a bow around the waist, which made her frown at in disdain every time she looked at it. Her hair was in a cute bun and she was wearing the bandage around her breast to make them look even smaller.

Django and Schultz were amazed when she was all done with her make over. They both felt admiration and slightly freaked out, at how easily she could make herself look like a fourteen- year old girl.

"What?" She asked at their stares.

"Nothing." Both men had answered at the same time.

Nera was sitting next to Schultz on his wagon, since it wasn't appropriate for women to ride a horse on a regular saddle instead of a two pommel sidesaddle. Her gun was tied across the inside of her left thigh and her dagger was tied on the right one. She had made sure that her guitar was safely placed inside the wagon.

They were nearing the big white house of Spencer Bennet, when said man strode out of the door, on the second floor, to the balcony.

As they stopped in front of the house, Bennet broke the silence. "It's against the law for niggers to ride horses on this territory."

"This is my valet. My valet does not walk." Schultz answered without missing a beat.

But Bennet wasn't having any of it. "I said niggers on horses…"

"His name is Django." Schultz interrupted "And Django is a free man. He can ride when he pleases." He finished with a smile on his face.

With his hand on his hip, Bennet became annoyed with the stranger. "Not on my property. Not around my niggers he can't."

Schultz realised that a different approach would be necessary. "My good sir. Perhaps we got off on the wrong boot." He started to remove his gloves. "Allow me to unring this bell. My name is Dr. King Schultz. This is my lovely daughter Nera." She gave Bennet a timid, yet sweet smile. "Over there is my valet, Django. And these are our horses, Tony, Toek and Fritz." At the calling of his name, Fritz bowed and the girls near the house all giggled.

Nera listened to their conversation and wasn't surprised when Bennet suddenly became very friendly, as Schultz offered him five thousand dollars to buy a girl. She inwardly rolled her eyes at the plantation owner.

Schultz was going to discuss business with Bennet and Betina was going to give Django a sightseeing tour around the property.

She was already with her feet on the ground as she addressed Schultz. "Papa! May I see the domain on my own? It's just so pretty!" She asked innocently.

Schultz gave his most fatherly smile. "Of course dear, but stay near the house. That would be alright for you mister Bennet, wouldn't it?"

"I don't see why not." The plantation owner answered, ready to say almost anything if that would mean he'd get five thousand dollars out of the German. Maybe even more.

With that, Schultz went inside with Bennet and Django followed Betina as she started to show him around. Nera went on her own to find the Brittle brothers. They'd figured that if they would split up, they'd have a bigger chance of finding them.

Nera was trying to look for the Brittles, with the description Django had given her from the three men. _A stout build grey haired one, a gangly built one and one with an eyepatch. Oh yeah and they're all white, sadistic assholes._ She heard screaming and headed to where it came from.

When she arrived at the scene, Nera saw a black woman, most likely a couple years younger than her, struggling against a white, unwashed man. There was also a second man, holding a whip in his hand. The poor woman was crying out for mercy, but the two men wouldn't give any of it to her. The gangly and younger man was about to tie her to the tree.

 _Gangly looking man, check. Stout build grey haired man, check. Both sadistic assholes? It sure looks like that. That big one looks a lot like Saint Nicolas!_

"Excuse me!" She called out. "But would you mind letting her go?!"

The two men turned to look at her and were confused to see a young girl, with such a pissed off look on her face.

"This ain't nothing for a little girl. Go away and play with your dolls." The oldest one of the two said.

"Let her go, sir." She enunciated every word very clearly. She was about to draw her gun, when Django appeared in the scene.

"John Brittle!" Django called out. Said Brittle brother turned around, and apparently he couldn't believe his eyes, if you could believe the look on his face.

Django came closer to the eldest brother. "You remember me?" Django asked him. Seconds later, John Brittle got shot by Django. John looked from the bullet wound to Django in wonder. As if it was all just a bad dream.

"I like the way you die boy." Django told him. Soon after, John fell dead to the ground.

Roger Brittle finally realised the seriousness of the situation. He swore as he tried to grab his gun. Django grabbed the whip of the late John Brittle and was about to strike Roger, but Nera had beaten him.

The moment John fell to the ground, she had taken the dagger that was attached to her right thigh. She noticed Roger's coming back to his senses and aimed the dagger at him.

It hit him straight in his right hand. He cried in pain and agony and took the dagger out of his hand in shock. This caused him to cry out even harder. He clutched his hand as the blood oozed out of it. He dropped to the ground, mostly due to the shock, still yelling in pain and agony.

Django took Roger's gun from the ground and looked at all the bystanders. "Y'all want to see something?" He walked towards Roger Brittle in fury. Nera looked away as Django shot all the remaining five bullets in to the second Brittle brother.

Schutz arrived mere moments later on Tony, with his rifle ready in his hand. He quickly dismounted the horse and looked at the dead bodies. "Who are they?" He asked puzzled.

"That's Big John and that's Little Raj." Django pointed at them with the gun.

"Where's Ellis?" Schultz asked.

"He's the one hightailing across that field over there." Nera could see a figure galloping in the distance, probably alarmed by the gunshots.

Schultz aimed his rifle at the man who was getting away. "You sure that's him?" He asked Django, without taking his eyes of the target.

"Yeah."

"Positive?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know if you're positive?"

"I don't know what positive means."

Nera answered him. "It means you're sure."

"Yes." Django replied.

"Yes what?" King was getting a little irritated by the way their conversation was going.

"Yes, I'm sure that's Ellis Brittle." And it didn't take the doctor a moment longer to pull the trigger. Ellis got shot and fell of his horse to the ground.

"I'm positive he's dead." Django said. Nera saw how Bennet, his overseers and many others were coming straight at them.

She addressed Schultz and Django in a hushed voice. "Schultz! Django! Turn around!"

They did as they were told and saw the angry mob coming in their direction, with a fuming Bennet leading the mob. King dropped the rifle and put his hands in the air. "Django! Nera!" He motioned them to do the same. They did and the group came to a stop in front of them, with several guns pointed at the three of them.

"Everybody calm down, we mean no one else any harm." Schultz tried to calm the group.

Bennet aimed his gun at Schultz. "Who are you three jokers?"

"I am Doctor King Schultz, a legal representative of the Criminal Justice System of the United States of America. To my left is Django Freeman, he's my deputy. To my right is Nera…" He looked at Nera since he didn't know her last name. He just hadn't thought about asking her about it.

Nera completed his sentence. "Elsander. I'm his partner."

Schultz listened and decided that he would think about this new piece of information later on. He then explained that the three men, Bennet thought were the Schaffers, were in fact the wanted Brittles. He did this with the help of Django. The overseers dropped their guns as Schultz explained that the penalty for killing a man of the law was indeed the gallows.

He showed Bennet the warrant, who took his time to examine the piece of paper. As Bennet handed the warrant back to Schultz, he instructed the smaller man one last thing. "Get off my land."

Schultz nodded his head. "Post haste." He placed the warrant back in his wallet and turned to address Django and Nera. "Load up the bodies as quickly as you can and let's get out of here."

The three Brittle brothers were lying dead on the horses in no time. Bennet looked at them as they left the plantation. Nera briefly glanced back at the enraged plantation owner and turned to look ahead. "There's no way he's going to let this slide."

"Not to worry Miss Elsander." She flinched at hearing her common title. It had been a long time since anyone had used it. "All good thing come to those who wait."

"What about not so good thing?"

"Well, on man's misfortune is another man's opportunity."

 **A.N: 165 centimeters is the same as 5 feet and 4 inches.** **Django does not have his monocular here.**


	4. And left with a bam

Chapter 4: And left with a bam

They went to an open field, the wagon in plain view for everyone to see. Schultz freed Tony from the wagon as Django put on the winter jacket from the late Ace Speck, since he had no other clothes. Nera went in the wagon and changed into her normal cowboy outfit. She came out of the wagon in her regular clothes with a content look on her face. _It feels good to wear my trousers again!_ She thought.

Django and Nera then went out to find some wood for the campfire. They collected the wood in silence at first, until Django started to speak.

"I haven't thanked you yet, for saving my ass with Little Raj. So… Thank you." He didn't look at Nera as he spoke, but she could hear the sincerity of his words.

She smiled at him. "You're welcome." Her face then turned into one of compassion. "Those Brittles, you must have really hated them for what they did to you and your wife, right?"

Django stopped gathering wood and looked her in the eyes. "How do you know?"

"The way you looked at them and the way you shot Little Raj told me enough." She answered him with sympathy. Django didn't know what to say and just nodded. They fell into a comfortable silence as they continued to gather branches and returned to the camp.

Schultz was studying a map, when Nera and Django returned. They dropped the branches on the ground and Django started to make a fire. "So, what are we going to do with Big Daddy?" Nera asked.

"What about him?" Django questioned, keeping his gaze focused on the task at hand.

Nera sat down on the ground near the campfire. "There is no way that Big Daddy will let a black man kill a bunch of white folks on his territory in front of all his black slaves to see, and be fine with it." Nera voiced her suspicions with loathing as she spoke about Bennet.

"Exactly!" Schultz was pleased to know that Nera was on the same page as him. "Now here's what we're going to do."

"Sure you two don't want to play another game?" Nera asked Schultz and Django with a grin on her face. The three of them had been hiding for over half an hour in a big tree across the field, after they had taken everything of importance out of the wagon and put some dynamite in the wobbly tooth.

They had been playing Blackjack to pass the time. But Django and Schultz didn't want to play anymore, because Nera had won most of the time.

Django was the first one to spot the torches in the distance. "Look, over there!" He exclaimed, pointing at the light in the distance.

"What the hell are they doing?" Django asked Schultz and Nera. They were observing the situation high-up in the tree. About thirty men on horseback, were carrying torches and guns. They all just sat on their horses, apparently listening to the two other men in front of them.

"Whatever it is they're doing, they're not really trying to be subtle." Nera answered. She then remembered her mini-monocular that lay forgotten in the inner pocket of her vest. "I've got an idea boys."

Schultz and Django watched how she took her mini-monocular out of her vest and used it to spy on the group. Django had never seen the strange object before, Schultz on the other hand, did recognise it for what it was.

"Oh, well hello Big Daddy. What a surprise!" She said.

"What's that?" Django asked. Nera looked away from the monocular and turned to Django. She handed him the small object. "Here. Just hold it against one eye and look through it."

Django did as he was told. "Wow. Wow! How does it do that?" He asked her, as he continued to watch the group.

"Science."

Django handed the monocular back to Nera. She took it and held it out to Schultz. "Our captain should be able to see the dangers of the sea as well." She told him with a small smile that managed to reach her eyes. He kept her gaze for a moment too long and then took the monocular without saying a word.

He observed them as they stood there for another five more minutes, seemingly arguing. After Bennet became angry at his followers, they all put their bag on their head and raced towards the abandoned wagon, yelling nonsense.

"Wow, they are definitely not trying to be subtle now." Nera snorted. Schultz handed the monocular back to her and aimed for the wobbly tooth.

"Auf Wiedersehen." Schultz murmured, before firing his riffle and blowing up his wagon. The explosion was enormous and painful to the ears all the way up the tree. Big Daddy was one of the men that instantly fell of their horses, due to the impact of the blow.

Django chuckled as he watched the explosion and Schultz was quite proud of his well-aimed shot. "Bullseye."

"Look at them run!" Django exclaimed in wonder.

Schultz gave them a knowing look. "Yeah, cowards do that." He pointed out as he reloaded his rifle.

"Damn."

Schultz aimed to shoot at Bennet, but then he looked back at Django and handed him the rifle. "Would you care to?"

Django doubted for only a split second, before he took the weapon in his hands. By that time, Bennet had finally found his strength and he had been able to get on the horse. He was galloping away, the last one of the group.

"He's getting away." Schultz reminded Django.

Django replied without taking his eyes of the target. "I got him."

"Big Daddy is getting away."

"I got him." And then, he fired one bullet. Followed by Big Daddy falling of his horse. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Nera briefly raised her eyebrows at the perfect shot. "He's got him." She marvelled, amazed by Django's newfound skills.

She wasn't the only one who was surprised to find out, that they had a natural shooter in their midst. "The kid's a natural." Schultz laughed. "Let's get out of this tree."

"Now we're talking!" Nera muttered happily, exited get out of there at last. She would most likely never willingly admit it to anyone, but she was a little bit afraid of heights. The Blackjack and the explosion had taken her mind of her current position. Now, all she wanted to do, was getting the heck out of the big oak tree.

She was able to descend almost seven meters, before one of her feet slipped. "Whoa!" She yelped in the act of losing her balance and plummeting to the ground.

"Nera!" Schultz yelled as he tried to grab her hand to no avail.

Lucky for her, the height of the fall was less than three meters. She also had been able to turn around to save her back from a very painful fall and her guitar from being smashed into a million pieces. Instead, she fell on her feet, but it wasn't a flawless fall.

"Aagh!" She groaned as she clutched her right ankle in the fetal position.

Schultz and Django descended the tree as quick as they could and approached her worriedly. "Where does it hurt?" Schultz calmly asked Nera as he supported her back and took her hand in his, without thinking about it.

She grunted. "My right ankle! I just lost from the ground. Ground 1, Nera 0."

He smiled as he fondly squeezed her hand. "Well, at least your sense of humour is still intact."

"Yay me."

Django took her ankle in his hands. "Hold still." He ordered. He carefully moved her foot in several directions, causing her to hiss in pain at certain angles. After a minute, he released her foot. "It's not broken. Probably just sprained. You're lucky that it isn't more serious. "

"Yes, I feel so very grateful right now." She scoffed sarcastically. "Sorry Django, pain makes me even more sarcastic. How did you know that it's sprained?"

"I've seen my share of broken and bruised bones. You would be crying out in pain like you were about to die, if it was really broken."

The two men helped her up on her feet. Schultz put her arm around his shoulder and he supported her as she wobbled to her horse. Nera made a first effort to get on her horse, which didn't work out.

Schultz tried to assist her, but she refused. "I can handle it." She told him in a kind, but firm manner. But when she tried to get on her horse a second time, and failed again, she felt like a helping hand would be necessary. She sighed and turned around to face Schultz. "Alright, I cannot handle it. Would you please help me get on my horse?" _Swallow the pride Nera, swallow the pride._

"But of course Fräulein." He helped her up by her waist.

"Thanks." She took the reins in her hands, just as she felt someone get on her horse behind her. She turned her head sharply and took in the features of a certain German, sitting close behind her.

"Hey! I can perfectly ride on my own horse, thank you very much."

"Well, we wouldn't want you to fall of your horse after you just fell out of a tree, now would we?" He replied most innocently as he took the reins.

 _Oh, that's low buddy_. She grumbled some incoherent words, Schultz spurred Toek and off they went. The man had a smug smile plastered on his face over his little victory.

Nera couldn't help but notice the ridiculousness of the situation and how very cliché it was. "I feel like a fucking damsel in distress." She blurted out, making the man behind her laugh. But she did accept her defeat, since she let Schultz spur Toek, unsure of how she felt being this close to this man.


	5. The tale that started it all

**A.N: I would like to thank MorganeChelsa, somuchforu, RavenHuffle and JackSparrowsWench92 for following the story and/or adding it to your favorites! Alright, let the next chapter start in three, two, one and START!**

* * *

Chapter 5: The tale that started it all

They made a new camp, after riding for over half an hour. Django made the fire. After he helped Nera take a seat on a nearby boulder, Schultz prepared their dinner. They ate in silence. No more than five words had been spoken the entire time, until Django asked Schultz a question.

"How did you know Broomhilda's first masters were German?"

Schultz swallowed the bite of food, before he answered the younger man. "Brünnhilde is a German name. If they named her, it stands to reason they'd be German."

"Lots of gals where you're from named Broomhilda?"

"Brünnhilde is the name of a character in one of the most popular of all the German legends."

"There's a story about Broomhilda?"

Schultz was still chewing his food this time when he replied. "Oh yes, there is."

Django put the rest of his dinner aside and slowly made his way towards the German. "Do you know it?"

"Oh, every German knows that story." Django sat down in front of Schultz. He stared expectantly at the other man. "Would you like me to tell you?" The doctor asked him. Django nodded his head once.

Schultz started to tell the legend of Brünnhilde and her hero, Siegfried. Django interrupted the German a couple of times to ask a question. Nera was also listening to the tale with interest. When Schultz neared the end of his story, both he and Nera could see that Django wasn't so different from Siegfried.

"He walks through hellfire, because Brünnhilde is worth it." Schultz finished the story. There was a moment of silence.

"I know how he feels." Django told Schultz, his voice filled with sadness.

Schultz looked at Django and spoke in understanding. "I think I'm just starting to realise that." Another silence followed, as Schultz tried to find the right words. Django kept looking straight ahead. The pain he felt was hidden by a mask of indifference. But one could not miss how his pain hung in the air as he watched how the light of the fire reflected on the rock in front of him. He didn't look away as Schultz moved to sit elsewhere.

The bounty hunter's voice was gentle. The compassion he felt was hard not to notice. "Look Django, I don't doubt that one day you will save your lady love." Django slightly shook his head at this. He would fight dragons and more if it meant that he and his wife could be back together. "But I'm afraid I can't let you go to Greenville in a good conscious." Django turned his head to look at Schultz, finally making eye contact with the other man.

"The slave auction town in Mississippi isn't a place for you to visit." Django turned his head away to look at the reflection of the light again, breaking the eye contact. "Free or not. It's just too dangerous." Schultz continued.

Nera spoke softly, for the time since they had arrived. "Please understand Django. If you go now, your freedom will be taken from you again. You will be right back where you ended. The possibility of getting your wife's freedom, whilst being a slave, is very near to non-existent. Almost impossible"

Django peered at her. He couldn't imagine how he would be able to find his wife, if he were to be captured and sold as a slave again.

Schultz nodded once to affirm her statement, and the tone of the man's voice changed audibly. A flicker of cheer curiosity was audible when he asked the following question. "Let me ask you a question." He moved to sit right in front of Django. "How do you like the bounty hunting business?"

"Killing white folks and they pay you for it? What's not to like?"

"I have to admit, we make a good team." Nera thought she saw Schultz glimpsed at her after he said that. But she wasn't quite sure whether or not she'd only imagined it.

Django couldn't completely believe what Schultz just told him. "I thought you were mad at me for killing Big John and Little Raj?"

Schultz didn't beat around the bushes when he answered him. "Yeah, on that occasion you were a tad overzealous. Little Raj could have killed you if it wasn't for Nera. But normally, that's a good thing."

"How'd you like to partner up for the winter?" Schulz asked curiously.

"What do you mean, partner up?" Django questioned in confusion.

"You work with me through the winter till the snow melts. I'll give you a third of my bounties. So we make some money this winter and when the snow melts, I'll take you to Greenville myself and we'll find where they send your wife."

Django was, understandably, a bit suspicious towards the bounty hunter's offer. He pondered for a moment, before he gave answered. "Why do you care what happens to me? Why do you care if I find my wife or not?"

"Frankly… I've never given anybody their freedom before. And now that I have, I feel vaguely responsible for you." Django thought about what the man just told him. "Plus, when a German meets a real-time Siegfried, that's kind of a big deal. As a German, I am obliged to help you on your quest to find your beloved Brünnhilde."

They stared into each other's eyes and kept staring when Django removed the glove from his right hand. He extended his now exposed right hand to Schultz. A sign that he was willing to seal the deal. Schultz looked at Django's hand for a split second before he shook it.

Schultz looked at his new partner. More specifically, at the clothes Django was wearing. "How about we get you an outfit in the morning? I presume you'll want to wear something different to look more like a bounty hunter instead of a valet."

Django leaned slightly forward. "Okay, can I keep the jacket?"

"Of course you can Django. I think the late Mr. Speck wouldn't have it any other way."

The both of them had momentarily forgotten about their female colleague, as they kept on talking. But when the conversation ended, they both heard the slow breathing. At one point, she had just fallen asleep on the boulder. Both men couldn't help but smile as she lay there in the starfish position like a baby.

"I believe we make a most unusual trio." Schultz declared proudly. A thoughtful expression crossed his face as he regarded the sleeping Nera. Without saying a word, he stood up and took one of his spare blankets. He quietly went to her and placed the fabric over her body, being the gentleman that he was.

She hummed in her sleep as the blanket started to make her feel less cold.

In the dead of night, one could not deny that winter was coming.

* * *

The sun arose soon enough. Nera was the first one, to arise under the new light of day.

She kept her eyes closed as she woke up, drowsiness overpowering her body for a little while longer. _Why do I feel like I slept on a rock?_ She felt the boulder on which she lay. _Oh, right. I did._

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Schultz and Django were still asleep on the ground and the fire from the night before, had extinguished itself earlier on in the morning.

She made a move to get off the boulder. But as she got off and put her weight on her feet, a pain shot straight through her right ankle. A sharp hiss escaped her mouth, before she muttered curses as she sat back down. _I forgot about that._

Schultz immediately sat up after he heard her.

 _Seems like we've got a light sleeper in our midst_. Nera assumed.

The doctor looked around in confusion, until his eyes were set on Nera. "Good morning." He whispered, aware that his other companion was still asleep.

"Morning." She answered with a sheepish smile. "Sorry for waking you up."

"That's alright. It was about time I got up." And he did exactly that. "I'll make us some coffee."

Her head perked up at the mention of coffee. "That would be great!" She answered happily. She casted a guilty glance at Django, to see if she had woken him up as well. But the man was still asleep.

After Schultz had lit up the fire and made coffee, he went to Nera with two cups of coffee in his hands. He handed her one cup and sat next to her. "Prosit."

"Santé." She answered, taking Schultz by surprise. He watched how a content smile came upon her lips as she took her first sip of coffee. Her eyelids closed momentarily in pure bliss.

"You speak French?" He asked with interest, meanwhile hoping for some sort of conformation on her origins.

"Sort of." She didn't meet his gaze as she answered him matter-of-factly.

"Pardon me, but what do you mean by 'sort of'?"

This time she did meet his gaze. She replied with a mischievous smile "What? Are you expecting some story of my life. Where I come from and how I learned it?"

He nodded his head. "Expecting? No. Hoping? Yes. But I guess you're not going to tell me. Am I right?"

"Yes, you are. But I will give you a hint, detective. I am not French."

"German?"

"Nein, but you're getting close."

He stroked his beard as he pondered. "The Netherlands?"

"No, though you would be right twenty-eight years ago, but not today."

Nera could see, by the look on his face, that he understood. He knew what she meant. They sat together in silence for a while.

"How much did you hear last night, before you fell asleep?" Nera was grateful that he had dropped the subject, for now. She felt comfortable with Django and Schultz, but that didn't mean she wanted to place herself in a vulnerable position. She knew that knowledge could mean power, in more ways than one.

"You two shaking hands is the last thing I remember."

He nodded. "We're going to a nearby town after breakfast for some clothes and the necessities. Do you want to join us?" She couldn't tell if he only meant going to the town or something else, when he asked her to join them.

She answered him nonetheless, without any doubt. "Alright."

 **It appears that Game of thrones made a cameo. I hope that whoever is reading this, enjoys the story!**


	6. From two to three

Chapter 6: From two to three.

 **A.N: Alright, it has been a very long time since I updated, I'm really sorry!**

 **Thanks to everyone who reads, favorites, follows and/ or reviews! It means a lot!**

 **I own nothing but my OC.**

It was never verbally agreed that Nera would stay with Django and Schultz. But in some cases, there's just no need for it.

After the three of them had breakfast, they wrapped everything up and prepared themselves to travel to the nearest town. This time, Nera would ride with Django. The two men were quite surprised to see that she didn't put up much of a fight. She grumbled and sighed, but did as she was told.

"What happened to Miss I-Can-Do-It-By-Myself?" Django mocked, after helping her on his horse.

"Too tired. The coffee didn't do the trick." Came her reply, supported by a long yawn. "So, if you find me drooling on your jacket whilst being asleep, try not to throw me off, please."

"I make no such promises." He jested amicably.

They arrived close to noon in a small town. It was decided that they would bring the bodies of the Brittle brothers to the local authorities, first and foremost. The local sheriff eyed them with suspicion, as they handed over the corpses. But luckily, the man didn't ask too many questions.

Once they had collected the reward, each bounty hunter went their own way. Django and Schultz dropped Nera off at the doctor's office. After that, Django went to a local store to buy some clothes and a new saddle, while Schultz bought some supplies for their trip into the mountains.

After half an hour, Nera left the doctor's office, supported by a pair of crutches. "Damn tree, damn ankle, damn crutches." She mumbled as she sat down on the front porch. She observed the passers-by to pass the time. Her attention was called when a little girl walked over to where she was sitting.

"Excuse me, Miss. But why are you dressed like a boy?" She asked with pure innocence and a strong southern drawl. Nera guessed that the girl couldn't be any older than eight.

"Well, I like to wear things that are comfortable. And trust me. In a couple of years, you'll know why I don't wear fancy gowns, corsets or whatever the latest fashion has in store for you." She said.

The girl opened her mouth to say something, but she was cut off as her mother stormed over and grabbed her by the arm. "Amelia! How dare you disappear like that?!" She angrily condescended her frightened daughter.

"It's all right, Miss. She just wanted to ask me a question." Nera interjected, trying to diffuse the situation. Apparently, the woman hadn't even noticed her before Nera spoke. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her eye sockets, as she seized the cowboy up. The woman looked at Nera with a look of disgust, like she was covered in horseshit. And Nera couldn't make a better comparison, since it was the exact look her brother gave her when she very much covered in horse faeces.

"Let's go!" The mother of the child declared, making it quite clear that there was no room for any argument. Hurriedly, she dragged her daughter away from a downhearted Nera. "Mother of the year." The cowboy grumbled, feeling sorry for the little girl.

Not long after that unpleasant encounter, Schultz and Django strolled towards her, having finished their own business and shopping. Nera couldn't suppress a grin as she eyed Django. "I must say, Django." She started. "This is the best outfit I have seen on you so far." _It sure is an improvement, compared to the blue valet outfit._ "Very bounty hunter-isch."

The two men had also noticed her state of impairment. She noticed them exchanging glances and answered them before they could ask her about it. "It's just a sprain, guys. The doc said I can't put any weight on it for at least five days." She stood up, and together they made their way to the stables. "So, what's the target, commander." She inquired of Schultz, since she hadn't used any nicknames for Django, in the past.

He didn't seem to mind her use of nicknames for him. Although, he did wonder if she would ever call him by his first name. "He is known as John Silver, but his real name is Smitty Bacall. I recently found one of his associates, Gerald Nash. And after I made sure he wasn't executed, he gave me the current location of Smitty Bacall. They had continued writing letters to one another, after the gang split up."

"How long will it take to get there?" Django asked.

"If my calculations are correct, approximately a week or so if we don't run into any trouble on the way. Oh, and I hope you have a winter coat, Nera."

"That I do." She answered as they entered the stables. Without hesitating, she 'walked' towards her own horse, only to be pulled back by a strong hand.

"Don't think so." She heard Django say firmly. He let go of her to put a new saddle on Tony.

 _You fall out of a tree once and you're branded for life._ She gave them her most pleading look. _I really don't want to bounce against someone on a horse for five days._

But it wasn't enough to change their mind. And so she ended up on Fritz, seated behind Schultz, feeling defeated and annoyed at the prospect of the following five days.

Her cheeks involuntarily started to heat up and turn red as Schultz wrapped her arms around his torso. _These are going to be longest days of my life_. She told herself as they rode off.

* * *

But in the following week, the trio fell into a comfortable routine. Every couple of hours, they would take a brief pause. When they were too tired, they would make a camp. Nera or Schultz had taken it upon themselves to teach Django in the art of reading and writing. And they were proud to see him make fast progress. He had told them beforehand that he had tried to teach himself to read and write, whilst still being enslaved. A dangerous thing to do when you're a slave, cause there aren't many owners who would want a slave to educate himself. At least, if it isn't beneficial for the owners themselves.

Nera persisted and used her crutches for five days straight, unable to comprehend how one could do that for the rest of their life. So on the sixth day, she hesitantly took a few steps. Even though her ankle was still a bit sore, she could walk without much of a problem. She couldn't be more pleased to have regained the independence she had taken for granted.

On the eve of the seventh day, Schultz informed his company, as he held a map in his hands, that they were close to their destination.

And the next day around noon, they got ready at a vantage point on a hill. From there, they were able to oversee an entire farm. The bounty hunters were lying on to ground, so they wouldn't be detected.

"Stay down on the ground, or he'll see us." Schultz informed his companions.

"A farmer? Why would he care if he saw us?" Django inquired befuddled.

Schultz turned towards his male companion. "I presume he would care, since he's about to get shot. That man over there is Smitty Bacall." He announced and gave Django the riffle. "The honour is all yours."

Django took hold of the weapon and aimed for the man in the field. But Schultz noticed the young man's hesitation as Django didn't pull the trigger.

"Ooh. What happened to Mr. I-Wanna-Kill-White-Folks-For-Money'?" Schultz jested.

Nera spoke for the first time since they had settled on top of the hill. "Gosh, doc. Maybe the point of shooting a man in front of his son, makes him feel uncomfortable?" She voiced her opinion.

Schultz now turned his attention towards her. "Why? He'll have a loved one with him. Who knows, they might share some heart to heart last words. Most don't get that and it's a damn sight better than he deserves." He looked back at an uncertain Django. "Put down the riffle. Don't worry, I'm not mad at you."

Schultz retrieved the wanted poster from his wallet and handed the piece of paper over to Django. "Read it aloud. That's todays lesson." Schultz told him. Django did as he was told. His reading skills had improved to a point where he could almost fluently read the words. He finished reading all the members of the Smitty Bacall gang.

"Well done, Django. Now that's who Smitty Bacall really is." He said, pointing to the face on the poster. "If Smitty Bacall would have wanted to start a farm at twenty-two, they would never have printed this. "But Smitty Bacall wanted to rob stagecoaches and he didn't mind killing innocent people doing so."

He folded the paper and put it back in his wallet. "Do you want to save your wife by doing what I do? This is what I do. I kill people and sell their corpses. His corpse is worth seven thousand dollars. Now quit your pussyfooting and shoot him."

"Can I propose an alternative?" Nera quickly interfered before any shots could be fired. She didn't know why, but a small part of her expected them to be mad or annoyed as she was about to voice her opinion. The kind look on their face and the gentle nod for her to continue talking, made her appreciation and respect for them grow even more. At that moment, she was one hundred percent sure that they saw her as an equal, as a partner. And somehow, that small gesture made her the happiest she had been in a long time. _Goddamit! Don't get emotional now, Nera! You've got to deal with the situation at hand._

She scraped her throat, praying that her voice would be normal. "I suggest we wait and try to deal with him once he's alone. Dead or alive is something we'll just have to see at the moment. I am against killing him in front of his son. For his son's sake. We've been riding for a week. Surely there is no harm in waiting a little longer?" She could see how they were thinking about her idea.

To give an example, she pointed at the outhouse, which was placed around thirty meters away from the main house. "I mean, he'll have to take a dump at some point. And I'm pretty sure he'll be alone by then. What if we trap him right then and there?" She asked hopefully.

Schultz was the first one to reply. "I agree to take a different approach. But this is your bounty Django, so this is your call."

Django looked back at Smitty and his son for a couple of seconds, making up his mind, before deciding what to do. "We'll wait."

 **A.N: I had trouble writing this chapter because of the Smitty Bacall bounty. The humanizing versus the bounty part. But hey! Looks like we're taking a different turn from the movie.**

 **I also took inspiration for some of the dialogue from the graphic novel that was created after the film came out.**

 **30 meters is 98,4 feet.**

 **I'm really glad this one has been written. Really glad. If you want to let me know what you think of it, I'd be happy to read that.**

 **PS: Sorry for any remaining spelling mistakes or grammatical errors.**


End file.
